Ramblings Of An Obscure Nature
by KissMeImOnlyPlastic
Summary: A 50ficlet challenge regarding Holmes x Watson No Longer Being Continued.
1. Situations Worthwhile

AN:// #44 - Lock And Key

"You changed the lock."

It was amusing how Watson's mustache seemed to twitch, that small little twitch Holmes was sure the Doctor wasn't aware of, but was there nonetheless. Fascinating most people were never aware of these little tell-tale signs that gave them away, although the Detective was sure Watson wasn't trying in the least to hide his irritation at this slight change.

221B had been his home. Enphasis on the 'had', as the man had up and left some weeks ago to live with his beloved wife-to-be, Miss Mary Watson. Holmes could barely hide the cringe at that mere thought, though he was reminded by the clearing of a throat that he'd gotten a little victory of his own.

"Indeed," He responded, that smile tugging at the corners of his lips which meant he'd done something he knew was inexplicibly unnessicary, but had been for his own amusement.

Childish, it had been. Watson had kept his key even after he'd moved, and had used it to interrupt all too many moping sessions Holmes had taken to in the privacy of his home. Knowing full well the irritation it would cause the other man, Holmes had requested the lock on the door change, and here they were, staring at eachother waiting for the other to speak.

"Key-"

"Now, look here-You no longer take residence-"

"Holmes. Key."

"It seems completely ridiculous-"

"Now."

Exhaling with that sigh that caused his nostrils to flare and his forehead to crease, Holmes shot Watson a resentful look and fished around in his pocket for the key, holding it out to the Doctor who snatched it without another word, rolling his eyes at Holmes mere childish behaviour and giving him a curt nod.

"I'll be by later to make sure you haven't drunk the town out of it's liquor," He sighed in a disapproving tone.

"Now that's completely illogical-I'd certainly be in quite critical care if I were to-"

"Goodbye, Holmes."

Watching his companion depart, Holmes shut the door behind him and reached into his pocket withdrawing a key, a smile scrawling itself across his features. Of course he'd given Watson the wrong key. Later there'd be banging on the door, and he'd be in for a lecture, but it was all in good fun when they ended the night with a glass of scotch and shared laughter over the whole matter.

Somehow, that made the whole situation worthwhile.


	2. Kiss Bruised Lips

AN:// #09 - Touch Me

Watson had barely entered the door, and Holmes was on him. Long-fingered hands tracing his chest skillfully, and body pressed flush against his. He would have protested, were it not for the pair of thin lips that had pressed themselves to his own, and Watson had only the moment to deduce that Holmes' tongue was as equally skilled as his fingers.

The kiss was filled with teeth, tongue and lips. Hot breaths escaping and breezing over eachothers features.

Holmes tasted like tobacco, whiskey and an unknown substance which Watson was sure would be boarding on the illegal. His scent was equally the same, though with the musky scent of the fighting ring on him, the fresh soil and a mixture of purfume and collogne he'd collected from those who had gone to watch.

When he finally willed himself to pursue this, he felt a strange tingling, and their kiss parted, Holmes staring at Watson with that conclusive look in his eyes and Watson could have hit the man, were he able. When his body finally hit the ground, he was unconcious already and the stirring in his groins had luckily subsided.

-

"Ah-"

"Give me a moment, I'll attend to the curtains," Holmes unmistakable voice spoke and Watson heard the sound of the man shutting the curtains before he dared to reopen his eyes and force himself off the floor and into a more comfortable sitting position.

"Just as I thought-The poison was passed when he kissed the Scullery Maid," Holmes deduced with a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and Watson had never found that self-serving smile so very attractive.

"So you mean to tell me I was a test subject?" Watson questioned, feeling the poison subside.

"Precisely, I had to test-"

"Good Lord, Holmes. You killed the dog-Again!"

"Ah-That-"

"Please don't tell me you passed the poison in the same way, or I'm sure I'll have to hit you," Watson spoke in disbelief not sure whether to take the bemused smile at his expense, or whether it was simply saying 'I'm not that stupid'.

No, Watson was far too busy looking at those kiss-bruised lips of Holmes, and noting, however unwillingly, that it was an attractive look.


	3. Delirium

AN:// #24 - Save Me

The needle pressed flush into his skin, and Holmes had to tense up to avoid making a small painful noise. No matter how many times he'd done this, the result was the same. He just wasn't fond of needles. There was something about pushing a thin mental spike into your skin that was boardering on the insane, no matter the rational reasons, but none of this changed the fact that his vision was now blurring.

It had been awhile since he'd partaken of this, most due to Watson's immense dislike for his less than honourable habit, but Watson wasn't there.

Somehow, it was regretful that all this was spurring from a small desire to have the man save him. Push aside his obligations toward his bride-to-be, and drop by. It had been weeks since his last visit, and Holmes was certain it had been weeks since he'd eaten, or bathed to be completely honest.

His floor was adorned with empty bottles of alcohol and piles of ash from his pipe which he'd obviously been too lazy to empty in a more suitable location.

He lost grip on reality as the drugs drew him in, and he forced himself to his feet, his fingers brushing against the wooden floor in utter awe at the sensation it caused in his fingertips. His eyes closed and he concentrated on only this. Not this problems. Not the reason he'd saught the needle.

Sherlock Holmes had no need for relationships, and that included the friendship Watson bouted.

The hours of the night passed him by in a cresendo of colours and sounds, and when the morning came and the Nanny entered, Holmes was curled up in his chair, a blanket draped around his shoulders, and his body shaking uncontrolably.

The shattering of the china she'd been holding entered the room, and she rushed to his side, taking his temperature, and fixing the blanket more firmly around him before sending for the Doctor, much to Holmes' protests, and she lingered at the door until she heard the brisk footsteps of John Watson and she rushed to him, pushing him along urgently.

"He's gone and done something again-I swear, the man is going to kill me with worry," She protested, glancing past his shoulder as they stopped at Holmes door frame and she heard the Doctor swear.

"Holmes, you foolish man," He scolded, "I've never met such a self destructive person!" He protested, wandering over to the man and wrenching a few things out of his bag as the Nanny disappeared, forcing Holmes shirt up to measure his heart beat, freezing when he felt an ice cold hand on his and glanced up to meet a soft smile.

"I missed you."

"..."

Watson frowned before letting out a disbelieving sigh.

"You're delirius as well?"


	4. Deductions Of Sorts

AN:// #18 - Hurt Me

Holmes could only register four things at that particular moment.

One, the Nanny was cooking breakfast, from the smell of it, it was Bacon and Eggs.

Secondly, Watson was in his room, it had to be Watson, there was that unmistakable set of footsteps caused by a knee injury from the war.

Thirdly, the Dog was going through his discarded things on the floor.

And fourth-

"Would you care to explain why I'm tied to the bed?"

Watson let a smile spread across his lips for a fleeting moment before hiding it. He wasn't going to let Holmes know he'd been worried. Ever since last night the man had been in and out of conciousness, and Watson had taken it upon himself to find every dangerous substance in that household that he could, and throw it out.

"How do you feel?"

"You're not answering my question," Holmes responded in a less than impressed tone.

"Because, whenever you're sick, you deliberately disobey my orders to stay bed-bound, and now it is quite literal so you have no choice in the matter. And don't you dare give me that look, Holmes. You brought this upon yourself with your intense dislike of taking care of yourself-"

"I drink."

"Alcohol! You need water, Holmes. You need a full and proper meal three times a day. You need to stop smoking so much. You need fresh air-And this-" Somehow it had gone from a careless argument to an immense disagreement, Watson held the needle in his hand and shook it to make an expression.

"It's none of your concern," Holmes responded in a tone that suggested for once, his brain had no back up for him, and he was forced to use half-wit excuses which wouldn't work on the average person, let alone Watson.

"You don't even wash yourself for Christs sake!" Watson persisted, "How would you feel if I used this, hm? If I put my health in risk for some brief fleeting entertainment?" He demanded, rolling up his sleeve for good measure and putting the tip of the needle against his skin.

"No-Watson-" Holmes protested, unable to form any intelligent remark.

"So it's okay for you to worry me half to death, but I can't worry you?" Watson frowned, lowering the needle nonetheless and placing it aside, staring at Holmes in search of those answers the other man seemed to hold constantly.

"Watson..." Holmes breathed out, a slight tone of relief lacing the name.

"You hurt me, Holmes. More than anyone can. Please, take care of yourself, if not for you, then for me?"

"I...Yes, of course," Holmes agreed.

The men shared a glance before a knock came to the door before it slid open and the woman came in with a cheerful smile.

"Breakfast."


	5. Mad Fools

AN:// #25 - Make Me

"You're being a child-Come here, Holmes!"

"Make me-"

Watson paused in his pursuit and raised a brow, "That is byfar the most immature thing I've ever heard you say," He spoke in disapproval. They were both in quite a state. Watson's hair was a mess, and his jacket equally so. He had a towel around his shoulders, and a bar of soap in his hand while Holmes was half dressed, and look as though he'd been attacked by something, or someone.

"You're taking a bath, Holmes-You smell something awful," Watson sighed.

Sometimes looking after Holmes was like having a child. If that were so, he'd have to reconsider his agreement to bare children with Mary. It didn't seem like a particularly good idea at the moment.

"I can bathe myself," Holmes responded in offence.

"Last time I left you to the bath, what happened?" The sigh was an overused one, one spurred by the bare presence of the other man. Holmes was tiring. But admittedly, being around the man was never a dull moment and Watson supposed it was some of the appeal.

"I was simply testing the chemical reactions towards warm water and soap-"

"And you got the most horrific rash I've ever had the misfortune to see. I had to come over and clean it twice a day for a month, and I'm not intent on doing that once more," Watson frowned, grasping Holmes' forearm and feeling the muscles tense beneath it.

Holmes was a strong man, no doubt. But only when he intended on hurting someone. When he was fighting against Watson, it was down to sheer struggling like a child as he was pulled toward the tub and Watson attempted to rid him of the last of his clothing.

Between the struggling, and the slightly over flowed tub, some of the water had fallen on the floor, and the next minute both men were in the tub, dressed or otherwise, looking worse for ware.

"What is all that noise?" A voice shouted up the stairs, unheeded as Watson turned to look at Holmes with a stern look, meeting a face full of joy and amusement as laughter bubbled up from his lips and he doubled over slightly, unable to control his shaking shoulders.

"This isn't-My clothes-" Watson protested before the smile lit his lips up. It was no use trying to be so stern around Holmes. Somehow the Detective always managed to make him smile, and in a moment both men were laughing in the tub like a pair of mad fools.


	6. Events Of Astronomical Proportions

"Is there any particular reason you're standing outside?"

Mrs. Hudson regarded the Doctor with a disgruntled look he'd come to know as one which meant Holmes had done something completely ridiculous. In this instance-

"He's locked me outside," She frowned in irritation, "I can't take much more of this, Doctor. If you don't make the man see reason, I'm very well making him find some other residence-"

"I'll do my best. He's just irritable is all, needs a new case, I'd wager," Watson reasoned. The last thing he needed was Holmes without a place to stay. That directly led to Holmes taking up residency with himself. Watching the woman stumble off, mumbling all sorts of irritable words beneath her breath, Watson rapped against the door.

"Holmes-Open the blasted door, old boy," He sighed, surprised when the hinges gave a groan of protest and the wirey haired man stared through the crack in the door, "Watson!" He announced as if surprised, long-fingered hands seizing the man and tugging him inside.

"I've stumbled across an event of astronomical proportions-"

"Have you bathed lately?"

"It could indeed be important in the near future, perhaps in a case or two-"

"Holmes, is that Whiskey I smell?"

"And I could even-"

Watson frowned, clasping a hand over the other man's mouth by way of silencing him, looking at those eyes, laced with exhaustion, dark circles hiding beneath them, and a blank expression portrayed aside from the usual bright and intelligent look.

"When was the last time you slept, Holmes?" He asked with a frown, removing the hand and grimacing as the man continued on his tangent, waltzing around as if there weren't a care in the world.

"May I ask you a question?" Watson spoke up, wetting his lips, watching as Holmes regarded him with that curiosity he held for most everything.

"Why won't you let me in, old chap? I'm just trying to help-It's painful to see you doing this to yourself," Watson frowned, his eyes glazing over in concern and he could have sworn he saw a form of understanding slip across his companions expression before it disappeared.

"Watson.." He breathed out, "I was wondering if you might be willing to allow me to test some new form of-"

And he was off again, Watson left wondering whether there was anyone with the ability to truly get through to the man in front of him. Or whether Holmes would ever let someone in at all.


End file.
